


You Want Me To Be Yours? (I Already Am)

by IneffableToreshi



Series: Mine & Yours [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Dirty Talk, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24788032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableToreshi/pseuds/IneffableToreshi
Summary: Requested follow-up to "I Want You To Be Mine", in which Crowley finds the book for real and confessions are made.Can be read by itself, but makes a bit more sense if you read "I Want You To Be Mine" first.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Mine & Yours [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801330
Comments: 53
Kudos: 214





	You Want Me To Be Yours? (I Already Am)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote "I Want You To Be Mine" because I simply adore the animatic by Mojo Chojo and thought it would be fun to write a fanfic version of it. I tweeked the plot just a bit at the end, however, and because of that I got numerous requests to write a follow up! Once it was said aloud I obviously couldn't resist, and so here we are! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> \---
> 
> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

If anyone were to question the demon Crowley concerning his feelings on whistling, he would have insisted that it was a ridiculous, disgusting habit that should only be employed when it was accurately determined to be an annoyance to those surrounding the whistler. 

Thus, it was of particular note that said demon was currently whistling a rather jaunty little tune - completely free of any surrounding listeners to annoy - while zooming through London at a truly heart-stopping velocity. 

The thing was, Crowley would absolutely deny, upon pain of death, that he had ever done such a foolish, cheerful,  _ happy  _ thing as whistling, but it was really rather difficult to contain his giddiness when his favorite being in all of Creation had just invited him over for a drink. 

Now, it wasn’t as though he and Aziraphale hadn’t been seeing each other a great deal of late. In fact, since the world hadn’t ended and they’d effectively freed each other from the restraints of Heaven and Hell, they’d been partaking of one another’s company rather a lot. Yet, the demon couldn’t help but feel a little thrill every time his- er... _ the _ angel initiated the proceedings. Aziraphale had spent millennia, after all, doing his level best to leave no doubt that the two of them were anything other than ‘business associates’ at best, ‘hereditary enemies’ at worst. He’d, therefore, left the overwhelming majority of the ‘initiating’ to Crowley, since a demon extending an invitation to an angel could be seen as a temptation in progress, while an angel doing the same to a demon couldn’t be seen as anything other than suspicious.

In conclusion, when Aziraphale had begun openly extending his hand (so to speak) and treating Crowley like a proper  _ friend _ , well...it was heady for the demon, to say the least.

He longed for more, of course - had been doing so for much longer than he cared to admit - but he could, and would, be happy with the forthright, public friendship his ( _ the! the! _ ) angel was finally offering. 

The Bentley screeched to a stop in Crowley’s favorite non-parking spot on the busy Soho street. He hopped out of the vehicle with a little kick in his step, and sashayed across the street with that jaunty little tune still on his lips and a bottle of particularly well-aged red wine clasped in one hand. The shop was locked up tight for the evening, but it knew better than to bar this particular demon from entry. The door swung open wide for him and re-locked itself the moment Crowley was past the threshold. 

“Angel!” he called, perhaps a smidge too cheerfully. “Brought something for you to try tonight!”

“Back here, my dear!” came the immediate response from somewhere back in the stacks. 

As it always did, the muscle in Crowley’s chest gave a pleased little lurch at the endearment. He knew perfectly well that it was a turn of phrase that Aziraphale used with nearly everyone, but it always sounded somehow  _ different  _ when it was directed at him. Perhaps that was just wishful thinking, but the demon’s utterly besotted heart simply refused not to hold tight to that little flicker of hope.

Crowley sauntered, hips swaying, through the bookshop until he came to the far row of shelves and spied the shop owner pulling books from a large cardboard box. “Hey angel!” he greeted, trying (and failing) to rein in the enthusiasm in his voice. He wiggled the bottle of red in front of himself. “Ready for a drink?”

The smile the demon received in response was brighter than any star in the night sky. As it had been doing for eons, it made him go a little weak in the knees. 

“Oh, hello dear.” Aziraphale practically  _ glowed _ , betraying his pleasure at Crowley’s timely arrival. “I’m just shelving some new books. I’ve only a few left if you’d like to have a seat.” He waved one of his book-laden hands through the door to the backroom and toward his favorite armchair before turning back to the shelves. 

If Crowley had been paying exceptionally close attention (rather than being a bit lost in that lovely angelic glow) he may have noticed the tiny, nearly imperceptible smirk that played across the angel’s face as he turned away. The demon, however, did  _ not _ notice this minuscule twitch of lips, as he simply turned and slunk contentedly over to the indicated furniture. 

The bottle of wine found its way to a side table before the demon turned and let himself fall dramatically, expecting the squashy, almost-too-comfortable softness of Aziraphale’s favorite chair. The moment his back end hit the chair, however, he had to twist his spine and slither sideways because a foreign object had rather rudely ruined the effect. 

It was a book. What a surprise! A fond little smile crept over Crowley’s lips. There was hardly enough space in Aziraphale’s shop to properly  _ breathe _ , so he really should have known immediately that what he’d sat on was yet another book. With a disgustingly affectionate little smile the demon plucked the paperback out from under his rear and flipped it over to see what poor piece of literature had been temporarily misplaced.

He read the title once.

Then he read it a second time. 

After the third reading he took note of the fact that his body had frozen stiff as stone and his corporation had very noticeably stopped breathing altogether.

Behind dark glasses the demon’s eyes squeezed shut.  _ Nope. There is no way that it says what I think it says. I misread. Sunglasses blurring the letters. Smudge on the lens. Dust in my eye. Has to be. _

Very slowly, as if his head might explode if he moved too fast, Crowley reached up, removed his glasses, and tucked them into the breast pocket of his button-up. Only then did he tentatively open his eyes again. 

_...nope. That’s exactly what I bloody thought it said. _

The book title stared up at Crowley as though daring him to find a rational explanation -  _ any  _ explanation - for why it had been laying on Aziraphale’s armchair. 

_ ‘Sex-Ed 101: How to Please Your Partner.’ _

Crowley’s throat was suddenly so dry he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he’d subconsciously willed his esophagus into sandpaper. He swallowed hard and tried to convince his body to remember how to breathe before the angel - who was no more than fifteen feet away - noticed that something was amiss. His brain shot into overdrive, desperately seeking some kind of logical reasoning for this particular book to be sitting in this particular chair. It wasn’t the kind of thing one would expect to find anywhere within the entire footprint of the shop, never mind on the ridiculously prim-and-proper owner’s favorite chair -  _ the chair where he did most of his reading _ . It must have been a shipping mistake that Aziraphale had placed there to ensure he wouldn’t forget to have it returned. Yes, that made perfect sense. Of course. That was definitely it.

_ Or _ , the most lascivious part of Crowley’s brain helpfully offered,  _ Perhaps it was laying in Aziraphale’s reading chair because he was...reading it.  _

No. No, no...no… That couldn’t even be a possibility. Why in the name of Go- Sa-  _ who-the-fuck-ever _ would  _ Aziraphale _ , of all beings, be reading a sexual self-help book on  _ pleasing your bloody partner? _

_ Perhaps he’s taken a human lover?  _ Ah, so here was the self-loathing part of Crowley’s brain coming to play.  _ He’s had his fair share of interested parties over the eons and now that he doesn’t have Heaven to answer to- _

NO! No! No, no...no...please,  _ fuck  _ no. The very thought of it made Crowley feel like he would be ill. Surely he’d know if Aziraphale was...was... _ cavorting _ with humans? They shared everything these days! They kept no secrets! ( _ Except the obvious one… _ yet another part of Crowley’s divided mind pointed out.) And they’d been spending so much time together these days...in all that time Aziraphale hadn’t given even the slightest indication that he was becoming interested in...in  _ carnal pleasures _ . 

It had to be the shipping thing. It  _ had  _ to be, because there was absolutely no way in the world that-

Crowley’s traitorous hand tipped the book sideways so that he noticed a small, thin strip of metal sticking out from between the pages. Swallowing hard and shaking much more than he’d  _ ever _ admit to, the demon reached up and gave the little piece of metal a tug, revealing a bit more of the intricate gold feather bookmark: one of several Aziraphale had commissioned in the early 1900’s and loved dearly. 

_ Fuck.  _

“Is something the matter, Crowley?”

Crowley moved so fast it may have very easily been an accidental miracle. Without realizing it he’d wound up on his feet in front of the armchair, the book clutched in a death-grip behind his back, facing Aziraphale with what must have been a truly disquieting grin. “Nothing!” he shouted before properly regulating his volume. “Nothing wrong!” he repeated at a more reasonable decibel level. He, unfortunately, was unable to do anything about the way his voice came out in a panicked, mouse-like squeak. 

Aziraphale had approached from the shop proper with an eyebrow raised and a look of genuine concern on his face. “Are...are you certain?” he asked, tone confused. 

Crowley wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, but for just a moment he thought that he saw the angel’s gaze flick toward the chair, and then to the arm that the demon was holding rather rigidly behind his back. Crowley swallowed again - why was his throat so bloody dry?! - and felt his fingernails digging into the cover of the book. 

“Totally fine, angel!” he insisted, speaking much too fast but lacking the necessary processing power to slow himself down. “Nothing wrong at all! Absolutely tickety-boo!”

Aziraphale’s other eyebrow rose, both eyes wide with disbelief. “Did you just say-?”

“Nope, never happened, I’ll deny it ‘till the heat-death of the Universe, HEY, I brought wine, you want some wine? I want some wine, let’s go have some wine!”

Given that his fluster-meter had officially exploded and destroyed a full quarter of the metropolis of his brain, it was  _ clearly _ a miracle that Crowley managed to sneak the book beneath his coat and into the waistband of his trousers before he snatched up the bottle of red and took off like a shot to find some glasses. 

His hands were shaking just a tad as he plucked up two glasses from the shelf where Aziraphale kept them and poured rather generous portions of wine into each. His brain, and all the voices therein, was now metaphorically gasping for a breath that it couldn’t seem to latch onto. 

Okay, okay...okay...so he was fairly confident that Aziraphale had, in fact, been reading the book. Given the placement of the bookmark nearly halfway through the tome it seemed he’d been...enjoying it? Learning something? Fuck, okay… Okay, the important question now was ‘whom was he reading it  _ for’ _ ? The only logical explanation was, again, a human lover, but Crowley’s entire existence was violently rejecting the very idea because...because…

His chest felt like it was imploding in upon itself. 

Had he waited too long, post-foiled-Apocalypse? He’d worked so hard and been so careful to make sure that he wasn’t moving too fast, but maybe...maybe he’d missed some sign that Aziraphale was ready to speed things along? Had he...had he gotten tired of waiting and decided to seek romance elsewhere? 

_ Or,  _ the deepest, most hateful piece of his mind finally whispered,  _ Maybe you’ve never even been a consideration in the first place, you pathetic excuse of a lovesick prat.  _

“Crowley, dear…” The voice was soft and careful, but it still made the demon leap and yelp, splashing a bit of wine on his shirt in the process. He didn’t even notice the liquid running down his front, however, because Aziraphale had come quite close and was looking up at him with blatant worry marring the beautiful blue of his eyes. “Please tell me what’s wrong,” the angel pleaded openly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, my dear.”

Crowley sucked in a sharp breath. “Seen a lot of ‘em, angel,” he muttered, ripping his glasses from his collar to shove them harshly back onto his face. “Hell’s full of ‘em, you know.”

Aziraphale huffed an annoyed breath and stepped even closer. Crowley instinctively took a step back and hit the shelf behind him. He immediately regretted the movement when he saw the look of hurt appear on the angel’s face.

“Are you...are you upset with me?” asked a miserable little voice. 

It was the worst thing the angel could ask, because as embarrassed, as mortified, as absolutely  _ terrified  _ as Crowley was to talk about this subject, he couldn’t stand to let his beautiful, sweet, precious Aziraphale think that he’d done anything wrong. 

“No, angel, I-” The demon bit his lip before sighing in defeat. He gulped down the whole glass he’d just poured, slammed it down on the shelf, and before he could talk himself out of it he forced the terrible, vulnerable, pained words out of his mouth: “Are you in a relationship with someone, Aziraphale?”

For the first few seconds he had his eyes squeezed shut because he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle whatever response was coming his way. After a long moment of utter silence, however, he peeked one eye open and was genuinely surprised to see a look of shock and open-mouthed horror on the angel’s face. 

“Am I-? With-?” Aziraphale’s mouth moved uselessly, fighting and failing to push out words in the proper order. He’d stumbled back a foot or two and his hands were flailing at his sides as if he’d forgotten how they worked. 

Crowley, of course, completely misunderstood the reaction and found himself spewing out apologies even as his eyes were burning behind his glasses. “It’s- I mean, if you want- It’s obviously your business and I have no right to-” Oh fuck, this was so hard. Why was this so bloody hard? If he started fucking crying he was going to have to cut his losses and move to the other side of the planet. Maybe he should just run out now, save himself some tiny bit of dignity. “Sorry, I- I shouldn’t have- I-if you want to take a human to bed that’s your-”

He was floundering desperately, seeking a way out, out of this blasted conversation, out of this  _ reality _ , when a sudden sharp snort had his eyes widening and his jaw dropping in a mix of incredulity and hurt. 

“Are you-  _ Angel _ , are you  _ laughing  _ at me?!”

It took far too long for Aziraphale to pull himself together, in Crowley’s frustrated opinion. He held a hand against the front of his waistcoat as tears of mirth streamed down his face, but when he finally looked back up he offered Crowley a smile that was so wonderfully affectionate it felt like a flaming arrow right through the demon’s heart. “Oh you absolute fool of a thing,” the angel chuckled. “How could you ever think-?” He pulled a handkerchief from one of his many pockets to dab the tears from his eyes and face, and when it was gone again he reached out and gingerly took one of Crowley’s hands in both of his own. “My dear,” the angel sighed fondly while the demon shivered at the touch, “I am most definitely  _ not  _ bedding humans. Or anyone else, for that matter.” He shuddered at the very concept of bedding any other angels or demons.

There was no way that Crowley could possibly deny the incredible wave of relief that washed all through his body at those words, but he was also terribly confused. “Then...then why are you reading-?” With the hand Aziraphale hadn’t claimed the demon reached under his coat and produced the paperback that had thrown him into this downward spiral. He waved it in the angel’s face and watched as Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed a rather pretty pink. 

“Um, well...that’s rather embarrassing, to be honest.” The angel cleared his throat, seemed about to continue, but then hesitated and gave Crowley’s hand a little tug. “Let’s sit down, my dear.”

They sat on the plush sofa, much closer together than they usually sat, knees just barely touching. Combined with the way Aziraphale was still holding his hand, Crowley felt strangely lightheaded.

“You see,” the angel began, “it was a mistake in the shipment, my dear, and I started flipping through it out of, er...academic curiosity.” His face was rather flushed now, but he was still smiling as he gazed down at his own hands wrapped around Crowley’s long fingers. “I drifted off while reading and had a rather...enjoyable dream, you see, and I had this silly idea that I might be able to...recreate it, in reality…”

The gears in Crowley’s head moved slowly, struggling to grind through this information. The only thing he  _ thought  _ he’d understood was that Aziraphale had had...a raunchy dream? And, well, that opened up way more questions than it answered, honestly. 

“The dream-” Aziraphale began, cleared his throat, and started again while looking up at Crowley from beneath soft, fluttering eyelashes. “The dream was about you, my dear.”

Crowley had an idea that his jaw had dropped open, but nothing came out of it. He was staring at the angel with his mouth open wide enough to catch flies, and his body refused to accept any commands. 

_ Angel...read sex book...dreamed...about me?...and thought...he’d recreate…? _

As his poor, overclocked brain fought with the details, Crowley could feel his body heating up exponentially. He tried to work his throat, but all that came out was a nonsense string of consonants that didn’t even begin to resemble words. Luckily Aziraphale seemed to find the reaction charming. He smiled at the silly noise Crowley had made with fondness in his eyes, and a little giggle escaped him. The sweet laugh made the demon’s heart squeeze in his chest.

“Oh, my dear, I apologize,” the angel sighed. He rubbed his thumbs along the back of Crowley’s hand, sending little bolts of electricity through the demon’s skin. “It was silly of me to think that things would play out the same as my dream just because I left the book there. And I’ve clearly upset you with my foolishness. I am really rather embarrass-”

“What did I do?” Crowley suddenly sputtered, voice a bit too loud, tone a bit too desperate. He cringed, but swallowed hard and managed to add, “I-in your dream, I mean.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened, his cheeks pinkened, but he was emboldened by the conversation thus far, so he took a deep breath, darted his tongue out to wet his lips, and spoke honestly. “You, um...you teased me a bit for reading the book, and asked if there was anything I wanted to...share about what I’d read, and then you pushed me against a wall and-”

Crowley came back to consciousness an indeterminate amount of time later, with Aziraphale hovering over him, panic in his eyes, asking if he was okay. “Ssssorry,” he choked out, unable to contain the sibilant hiss. “Think all the blood might’ve rushed outta my head just then.”

The concern on Aziraphale’s face melted into relief, then fondness, and finally mischievousness. “I can see that,” he teased, sitting back and letting his gaze momentarily flick down in the direction of Crowley’s rather too-tight trousers.

The demon couldn’t decide whether to be mortified or overjoyed. On the one hand, Aziraphale -  _ his angel, dammit! _ \- had dreamed about him - about  _ him!  _ \- in a rather compromising situation, and had clearly indicated a desire to find himself in that particular compromising situation in real life. On the other hand, Aziraphale - his wonderful, beautiful,  _ fucking perfect  _ angel - was currently sitting  _ very  _ close to him, their thighs now pressed firmly together, while Crowley’s whomever-forsaken trousers felt like they were cutting off the circulation to his-

Aziraphale’s hand had found the demon’s cheek, causing another little swoon of faintness to threaten his consciousness. “I am quite sorry that I made you think I was off gallivanting with some human, my dearest.”

_ Dearest!  _ The very sudden new endearment had Crowley’s insides melting, his heart dancing frantically.

“I’ve never been brave enough to bring our relationship up directly,” the angel continued, looking shy but determined as he ran his thumb along the sharp jut of Crowley’s jaw. “But the look in your eyes when you asked if I was in a relationship… You looked so upset, and- Darling, can I assume you feel for me the same way I feel for you?”

_ Darling! _ A very un-demonic squeak filled the air. Crowley quickly gave up on trying to speak and instead nodded with more enthusiasm than he’d ever displayed for anything else before.

Aziraphale’s face lit up like the sun. “Oh, I’m so glad,” he sighed, blue eyes practically glowing. “Perhaps we could start over? If you would be amenable, my dearest, I would very much like to kiss you now.”

The sound that bubbled up from Crowley’s throat was most certainly  _ not  _ a whimper, but because he was apparently determined to further his own embarrassment as much as possible he managed to squeak out, “D-do you want me to p-push you against the w-wall?”

Aziraphale laughed, not unkindly, but full of radiant, heavenly joy. “Perhaps another time, my sweet,” he suggested with a teasing grin. 

Before Crowley’s overworked heart or brain could compute that most recent endearment there were soft lips on his own, pressing against him with a persistent, yet gentle pressure. For a moment the demon’s body reacted with panic - eyes gone as wide as they could go, hands reaching out desperately for something to hold on to, heart and lungs resolutely  _ stopped _ . 

Then he melted into it, a needy little groan in his throat, eyes fluttering closed. 

_ This is a dream. This has to be a dream. Oh fuck- Somebody, don’t let this be a dream… _

The warm fingers on his cheek moved back, through his hair, down to the back of his neck, putting just enough pressure against his skin to make goosebumps appear all over his body. He felt light, buoyant, like he might float away. He couldn't imagine any sensation in all of Her creation being so utterly, wonderfully, joyously perfect. 

A little sound of disappointment came out of him as Aziraphale broke the kiss, but it soon evolved into a gasp of excitement as the angel's other hand found the demon's hip and pulled him easily up and over. Crowley found himself straddling Aziraphale's lap, from which position he became strikingly aware of the angel's growing arousal. This new knowledge made his own desire spike exponentially, something that Aziraphale immediately took notice of. 

“Are you enjoying yourself thus far, darling?” the angel asked with a sly little smirk and a sparkle in his eyes. 

Crowley wanted to pinch himself, but settled for harshly biting the inside of his cheek. When he didn’t find himself springing awake in his own bed he forced himself to nod before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. When he thought he was capable of speech again he quirked a little smile and asked, “Was that move from your book?”

The apples of Aziraphale’s cheeks were the prettiest pink the demon had ever seen. “No, actually,” he admitted, looking up at Crowley from beneath his eyelashes again. “That was just what felt right.”

_ Felt right. _ Fuck yes, it did. Perhaps...perhaps…

Crowley’s hands had naturally landed on Aziraphale’s shoulders when he was pulled over, but now he let them roam, tentatively, carefully, doing what  _ felt right _ . Long fingers found their way into a soft, curly puff of platinum-blond hair at the back of the angel’s neck, threading through to find it even fluffier than the demon had imagined it would be. He curled his fingers, just a bit, and gave a tiny tug that made Aziraphale whimper, eyes fluttering closed. One hand stayed tangled in that plush cloud of hair while the other wandered, fingertips tracing the shell of the angel’s ear, the line of his jaw, the shape of his Adam’s apple. Then back up again, to flutter feather-light against gently parted lips and feel the puff of breath that came from between them. 

“I love you,” Crowley whispered before he could stop himself, before he could even  _ consider _ the consequences. 

Aziraphale’s eyes shot open. His pupils were blown, and there was pure, unrestrained desire in them. “I love you too,” he responded without hesitation. “Oh lord, so very much… I love you so  _ very _ much my dearest.” 

Crowley surged forward, unwilling and unable to wait any longer. His lips met his angel’s, both of the beings wild with a need that had been building for millennia.  _ He loves me,  _ the demon’s brain screamed, disbelieving but radiant with ecstasy,  _ He loves me, he loves me, he loves me! _

Two sets of hands roamed now, anywhere and everywhere, just desperate to touch, touch, touch. Crowley’s fingers found Aziraphale’s bow-tie, delicately loosening it before pulling it free from the angel’s collar and flinging it in the direction of the coffee table. Aziraphale’s hands found the sides of the demon’s shirt, rucking it up out of his trousers in order to slide warm, strong hands up beneath it and begin exploring the expanse of skin beneath. Crowley fumbled with several of the buttons on Aziraphale’s waistcoat before giving up and moving lower to snatch away the angel’s belt and pull open his trousers. Aziraphale registered the demon’s actions with a gasp and rushed to copy them. Their mouths continued to work against one another, lips and tongues and occasionally teeth, moaning against one another. 

Crowley’s hand found Aziraphale’s cock, hard and dripping, and wrapped around it possessively. The angel’s head fell back against the sofa with a wanton moan that made the demon’s insides turn to jelly. He used the angel’s moment of distraction to glance down at the hot flesh in his hand and felt his own body inflame at the sight. Aziraphale had made...quite the Effort indeed. “Fuck…” the demon found himself hissing. “Greedy, sinful,  _ prideful _ angel, giving yourself something like  _ this… _ ”

Aziraphale could hardly keep from smirking, even as his hips subconsciously thrust into the demon’s touch. “I-ah!” he gasped, grinning. “I may have- Nnng… May have been reading some questionable literature when I designed it.” 

Crowley ran his fingers up and down the length reverently, spreading precome as he went. “Lucky me,” he sighed, heart racing, and met his angel’s gaze. His confidence was growing in conjunction with the lust in the other’s eyes, so he dared to say something that he never would have imagined saying to Aziraphale, had he been given all of eternity to work up the courage. “I can’t wait to feel it filling me to bursting.”

Aziraphale’s eyes went wide, his breathing raspy. He had to swallow before he could respond. “Oh love…” he gasped out. “Oh, I would like that very, very much. But right now-” His hands got back to work, pulling open the demon’s trousers with a ferocity that may have caused several tears in the skin-tight fabric. “-I really think things are going to happen a bit too fast for that.”

Crowley’s head fell back in a harsh gasp and a shuddering moan when the angel’s fingers wrapped around his own flushed red cock. “F-fuck, angel,” he hissed, hips bucking of his own accord. “T-think you might be right ‘bout that-”

“Next time,” Aziraphale promised, whispering the words against the demon’s skin as he pressed hot kisses to his throat and collar. “Next time, my love. I will worship every inch of your body, open you up slowly, tease you until you’re begging for it. I’ll sink myself into you inch by inch and fuck you until you scream.”

Crowley’s eyes had gone the size of saucers, his jaw hanging open in shock. “Aziraphale!” he gasped, equal parts aghast and aroused. “Who gave you permission to talk like that?!”

The angel laughed openly, clearly quite pleased with himself. When he settled his gaze back on the demon the wicked desire there was second only to the plainly evident waves of love. “The book suggested that certain...turns of phrase could heighten the excitement.” He gave Crowley’s cock a long, firm tug and was rewarded with a breathy groan. “Is it working?”

“Ngk-” Crowley choked out. “Hearing you say ‘fuck’ nearly finished me off, ‘f ‘m bein’ honest.”

Aziraphale’s grin was positively sinful. “Oh, I’ll have to remember that one then…”

Crowley whimpered, uncertain whether he was going to survive this encounter. He needed to take some control back before he fell apart completely. Recalling the angel’s dream he snatched up both of Aziraphale’s wrists and pressed them back against the sofa on either side of his angel’s surprised face, pinning him with a growl. Then he struck hard and fast, fangs grazing against the soft, pale flesh of his angel’s throat, tongue pressing against the pulse point. The sensation had Aziraphale gasping with pleasure, but their combined ministrations below the belt had been halted in the process, so Crowley pushed his hips forward at a very deliberate angle. The thrust of their cocks against one another had each of them melting together with twin groans. 

“Uhhn...Crowley, darling-!” the angel keened, hips jerking. He pulled at the grip the demon had on his arms, but without any real desire to escape. “Oh how I’ve dreamed of feeling you like this, my love.”

_ My love! _

Crowley ground his hips down again and nearly cried out from the deliciousness of their bodies rubbing together, hard and hot. “Not as long as I have, angel,” he growled into Aziraphale’s throat. “I guarantee that.”

“Agree to disagree, dearest,” the angel gasped before biting down on his lip. 

Crowley shifted deliberately, bringing Aziraphale’s two squirming hands together into one of his own, the other snaking down between their bodies to wrap around both of their cocks. The noise Aziraphale made spurred on his movements. It wasn’t graceful or artistic or even particularly romantic, but it was exactly what they both needed in that moment: hard and fast and desperate. 

It took more willpower than Crowley was aware he possessed to hold out for his angel, but he forced himself through it,  _ needing  _ to do it, and the moment he felt Aziraphale’s body tense beneath him, he finally allowed himself to let go. 

The wave of pleasure was unlike anything the demon had ever felt before, crashing down over him in a rush, pulling him down, threatening to drown him before slowly, gently, carefully pushing him back toward shore. 

His eyes fluttered open (when had he closed them?) to find bright blue ones gazing back at him with something like awe edged in adoration. The angel’s hands now easily wriggled out of his grasp to close around his face, pulling him in for a soft, sweet kiss that seemed to last forever, and yet for no time at all. 

Crowley couldn’t help but wonder what in the world he’d done in order to earn his greatest dream coming true. He’d never wanted anything more in all of existence than to have this - just this, always this. 

“My love,” Aziraphale whispered, drawing a hand back to card through thoroughly mussed red hair. 

Crowley’s heart swelled at the words. 

Then he pulled back in horror, a thousand apologies ready on his lips. “Oh shit, angel!” He tried to push away, holding his wet, sticky hand out as far as he could. “Damn it, fuck, your clothes! I’m  _ so _ sorry, I didn’t think, I-” He was cut off sharply when Aziraphale’s arm flew around his back and yanked their bodies back together, undoubtedly smearing the mess further against their respective outfits. 

“I’ll miracle it away later, darling,” he hummed, completely unperturbed. 

The surprise on Crowley’s face surely couldn’t have been clearer. He swallowed hard, a small part of him expecting a trick. “But...but won’t you, uh...you know-?”

“Always know it was there?” the angel finished for him, with a truly devilish grin. “Why, yes, I suppose I would…” 

Aziraphale winked, and Crowley very nearly swooned at the implication.  _ Fuck me. Whatever I’ve done to deserve this, I swear I’ll never let it go now. _

“Join me for a hot bath, my love?”

“Fuck yes, angel. Whatever you want. Absolutely  _ anything _ you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you think? XD If you enjoyed this follow up, please leave me a comment down below! I thrive on your love! <3 <3 <3
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> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!


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